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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



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015 973 671 4 



PS 3505 
.R67 P7 
1918 
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i ACTING PLAYS 



^Jlw Stride of 




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S^WALTERH BAKER8 CO-^ 
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TH V A HI A 7nNS ^^<^® ^ I^ree Acts. Seven males, fire f«. 
inCi i%I^J\ttVJl%iJ males. Costumes, modem; sc^aery, not 
dlfllemlt. Plays a full evening. 

THE CABINET MlNISi'ER S. ^ JTen^fi?: S." 

•ameg, modern society ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening' 

riANHY niPIf Parcein Three Acts. Seven males, f©ur fe- 
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THE GAY LORD QUEX »1Sie"£o''.fut,S?"^S2l?| 

•oenery, two interiors and an exterior. Plays a full evening. 

UTQ UniKF IN nPriFff comedy in Four Acts. Nine males, 
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No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 



The Pride of the Family 

A Play in One Act 



By 
AGNES L. CRIMMINS 

Author of * *She Knows Better Now^" etc. 



PLEASE NOTICE 

The professional stage rights in this play are strictly reserved. 
Amateurs may obtain permission to produce it privately upon 
payment of a fee of five dollars (^5.00) for each performance, in 
advance. All payments and correspondence should be addressed 
to Norman Lee Swartout, 24 Blackburn Road, Summit, 
New Jersey. 



BOSTON 

WALTER H. BAKER & CO. 

1918 



P555(9S 
The Pride of the Family 



CHARACTERS 

{^In the order of their appearance, ) 

Mrs. Henry Newton. 
Henry Newton, Sr. 
John Newton, ) their ^om 

Henry Newton, Jr. I ^^^^^ ^^^^' 

Time. — Shortly after the U. S. declaration of 
war with Germany. 

Place.— A New England farm. 




Copyright, 1918, by Agnes L. Crimmins 
{^As an unpublished dramatic composition) 

Copyright, 1918, by Agnes L. Crimmins 
As author and proprietor 

Professional stage and moving picture rights reserved. 



)CI.D 50568 



GCT lb (918 



PLEASE NOTICE 

The professional stage-rights in this play are strictly reserved 
by the author. Applications for its use should be addressed to 
Norman Lee Swartout, 24 Blackburn Road, Summit, New 
Jersey. 



Attention is called to the penalties provided by the Copyright 
Law of the United States of America in force July I, 1909, for 
any infringement of her rights, as follows : 

Sec. 28. That any person who wilfully and for profit shall infringe any 
Copyright secured by this Act, or who shall knowingly and wilfully aid 
or abet such infringement, shall be deemed guilty of a misdemeanor, and 
upon conviction thereof shall be punished by imprisonment for not ex- 
ceeding one year or by a fine of not less than one hundred dollars, or both, 
at the discretion of the court. 

Sec. 29. That any person who, with fraudulent intent, shall insert or 
impress any notice of Copyright required by this Act, or words of the 
same purport, in or upon any uncopyrighted article, or with fraudulent in- 
tent shall remove or alter the copyright notice upon any article duly copy- 
righted shall be guilty of a misdemeanor, punishable by a fine of not less 
than one hundred dollars and not more than one thousand dollars. 



The Pride of the Family 



SCENE. — Kitchen of the Newton homestead. The scene 
represents a room which serves the purpose of kitchen, 
living-room, and dining-room, and its furnishings in- 
dicate that its owners come of good old stock. The 
furniture is antique, of good lines, though shabby from 
long usage. At centre back is door leading out-of- 
doors. At R. and l. of door are windows, upon the 
sills of which are red geraniums. Before window at 
L. is an old-fashioned rocking-chair with sewing table 
beside it. On the table is a work-basket in which is 
seen a partially knitted khaki sleeveless sweater. Be- 
fore window at r. is a small table upon which are 
papers, books, etc. At u c. against wall is a stove 
with hot oven above. In oven may be seen two or 
three dishes. On stove is a teakettle and a coffee-pot. 
At L. of stove is the kitchen sink with its customary 
fittings. To u, on wall, is a roller towel; a mirror 
with comb and brush on shelf beneath. Against op- 
posite wall is a dresser with old-fashioned china, and a 
few pieces of pewter on top. In upper r. corner is a 
grandfather clock, practical, and marking the time of 
fovir o'clock. At u., l. is door leading to zvood-shcd. 
Above door at centre back is motto "" God Bless Our 
Home/' The back drop represents fertile fields in an 
early stage of cultivation. At c. of stage is a diuinij 
table with one place set. There arc three chairs 
pushed up against table. There may be such other 
furnishings as would be considered essential to give 
the room the necessary atmosphere. 

{At rise of curtain, Mrs. Newton, a perfect example 

5 



THE PRIDE OF THE FAMILY 

of the simple, loveable New England type of mother, 
is sitting before window at l. Mr. Newton, an in- 
valid, is asleep in a wheel-chair at r. The shades 
have been drawn at window beside him to shut out 
the sunlight which streams through window at l. 
On his forehead rests a pair of old-fashioned spec- 
tacles. Across his knees is spread a warm shawl. 
There is silence save for the ticking of the clock, 
and the deep breathing of Mr. Newton. Mrs. 
Newton finishes the darning of a sock, rolls it up 
" with another, and places on table. She pauses for 
a brief moment, glances at the clock, out the win- 
dow, and at Mr. Newton. Then, keeping her eyes 
on him, she opens the table drawer softly, and cau- 
tiously brings forth a little mass of red and white 
cloth. She carefully puts the work-basket in front 
so as to obstruct Mr. Newton's view, should he 
waken suddenly and glance her way. As extra pre- 
caution she keeps her work in her lap. She then 
takes from the drawer a star of blue, and, unfolding 
her cloth, we see that she is making a service flag. 
She smiles a little sadly as she takes it up, and 
smoothing it out, pats it tenderly, and places it on 
its field of white. She takes a few stitches, keeping 
her work always out of range of Mr. Newton's 
vision, and showing a certain guilty nervousness. 
From off stage comes the sound of wagon wheels. 
Mrs. Newton pauses, listens eagerly; then follows 
a sharp whistle blozvn twice. She starts up quickly, 
casting a quick look toward her husband, and un- 
consciously uttering a warning "Sssh!'' conceals 
her work under the sweater, and hurries out of 
door at c. back.) 

Voice {off stage; jovially). How do, Mis' 



(Mr. Newton shifts uneasily -in his chair. Mrs. 
Newton, passing in front of window at u. l., puts 
warning finger to lips. Voice dies away. There 
follows low murmur of voices off stage. Mr. New- 
ton, restless in his sleep, drops shawl from his knees. 



THE PRIDE OF THE FAMILY 7 

Mrs. Newton reappears in front of window, turns 
and smiles a motherly good-bye to some one off l., 
and enters with newspaper and letter. She looks 
toward her husband, hesitates, then goes toward 
window at l.^ quickly opens letter, holds it up to the 
light and reads, her face lighting up with eagerness 
as she proceeds. She turns, starts toward Mr. 
Newton eagerly, then pauses, thinks, slowly puts 
letter into her pocket, and returns to her chair and 
her work. She sews feverishly for a moment, rock- 
ing rapidly. Gradually she becomes more quiet and 
more serious, her work rests in her lap, and her gaze 
is turned toward the fields outside. A sudden snort 
of waking from Mr. Newton brings her back with 
a start.) 

Mrs. Newton. Mercy to goodness, father ! — be ye 
awake ? 

Mr. Newton {grouchy voice). Be I awake! Why 
don't ye ask me '* be I aUve '' ? 

Mrs. Newton {patiently). I kin see ye're that. 

Mr. Newton {shrugging his shoulders and shivering). 
Bu-r-r-r ! It's cold in here. That piller hurts my back. 
Where's the paper? Where's my glasses? What time is 
it? Ain't John home yet? {Looking toward dining 
table, irritably.) What's he doin' 

Mrs. Newton {conceals service flag in szveater, and 
hastens to him). My! My! My! father! It'd take 
a centipede to wait on ye, an' answer all yer questions, — 
but {gently tucking shawl about his knees), I dunno's a 
centipede's got as many tongues as legs, has he? 

Mr. Newton. If he had all you women'd be centi- 
pedes. 

Mrs. Newton {shaking out and readjusting his pil- 
low). An' all you men'd be terrible dependent on centi- 
pedes. {Laughs softly, and pats liis shoulder.) 

Mr. Newton. Ye will have Ihe last word, won't yc? 

Mrs. Newton {puis her finger to her lips, and sjjillrs 
upon him tolerantly, rolls up tlie shades, and turns his 
chair nearer the window). There, the sun'll cheer ye up. 

Mr. Newton. Humph !- What time is it? 



8 THE PRIDE OF THE FAMILY 

Mrs. Newton {occupying herself for a moment with 
the geraniums). It's a little past four o'clock. 

Mr. Newton. Four o'clock! Where's John? Ain't 
he home yet? {Glancing from dining table to stove.) 

Mrs. Newton. No, — not yet. 

Mr. Newton {annoyed). What's he doin' 'til this 
hour of the day? 

Mrs. Newton {hesitating) , Why, — I s'pose he's busy, 
father. 

Mr. Newton. Busy ! Does it take all day to sell 
twenty pounds of butter an' ten dozen eggs ! When I 
had the use o' my limbs I had my stuff all sold and wuz 
back in time for dinner. 

Mrs. Newton {soothingly). You wuz alius spry,^ 
father. {Tentatively.) P'r'aps John has somethin' — 
some business to 'tend to. 

Mr. Newton. What business? His business is right 
here, — not loafin' or lally-gaggin' 'round town— and 
neglectin' the farm. 

Mrs. Newton. You can't say, father, that John has 
ever neglected his work. Only the other day ye said ye 
never see'd the fields lookin' so well for this time o' year. 

Mr. Newton {grumblingly). That's because the 
weather's been fine. 

Mrs. Newton. Now, now, father ! • Give John his 
due ; — give him credit. 

Mr. Newton. Humph ! Guess you can save me that 
trouble. 

Mrs. Newton. John's a good boy, — a good faithful 
son. {Turns away from window with a sigh, and comes 
down stage; pauses in thought.) It don't seem as if we 
could git along without him. 

Mr. Newton. An' Henry's a good, smart son. Don't 
ye f ergit that ! 

Mrs. Newton {with a sigh). Yes, Henry's a good 
boy, too. I hope he'll turn out as well as John. 

Mr. Newton. As well as John ! What be ye a-talk- 
in' 'bout, woman ! He'll be the pride of the family. 

Mrs. Newton. I hope so. We've made sacrifices 
enough — to give him a good education. 

Mr. Newton. He's got brains — an' " go," — he has. 



THE PRIDE OF THE FAMILY Q 

Mrs. Newton. Yes, Henry's got brains, but some- 
times Tm afraid of the '' go." 

Mr. Newton. Ye got to have " go '' ter git anywhere 
in this world. 

Mrs. Newton. Sometimes it's the *' go " that takes 
ye past what's best fer ye. A Httle " stay " is good now 
an' then. Henry seems ter crave excitement. 

Mr. Newton. He'll steady down. 

Mrs. Newton. I hope so. {Going across to table 
and taking up the sweater and beginning to knit.) But — 
after bein' away four years at college — with so much 
goin' on — seems 's if 'twould be kinder hard for him to 
settle down to our quiet life again. 

Mr. Newton. What ye talkin' 'bout, woman ? How 
many times have I got to tell ye Henry's goin' out into 
the world and make a name for himself — to be a big 
lawyer — or somethin'. 

Mrs. Newton {shaking her head sadly). We can't 
tell much in these terrible times of war an' trouble what 
our boys'll do. 

Mr. Newton {petulantly). There ye go again — like 
a scared hen ! Don't know whether to go up a tree — or 
over a fence — or spin 'round in the middle of the road ! 
Jest because other countries are crazy 'nough to go to 
war, does that mean that we got to go in, too, and get a 
bloody nose? Talk sense, woman. 

Mrs. Newton. But we're at war, father. It's been 
declared. The young men must stand back o' their 
country — {with a sigh) I s'pose. 

Mr. Newton. You s'pose rubbish ! Don't ye know 
that's only another kind o' letter to frighten them Ger- 
mans into leavin' us alone? Ye notice they hain't done 
nothin' since the President told 'em we'd lick 'em if they 
didn't keep out of our way. That's all he did it for, — 
and that's all he's got to do. They know we mean busi- 
ness now. We'll hear nothin' more from them. 

Mrs. Newton. I dunno. They're askin' the young 
men to enlist. 

Mr. Newton. Of course, they got to go on makin' 
a show of fight. Besides, it's a good way ter get the 
vagrants off the streets. 



10 THE PRIDE OF THE FAMILY 

Mrs. Newton. It's our best young men they're askin' 
to enlist. — Oh, it don't seem 's if the dear Lord sent our 
boys into the world for this purpose — to be shot down. 

Mr. Newton. Waal, He didn't — nuther. 

Mrs. Newton. Then why does He let it go on? 
(Her fingers working convulsively over service flag in 
her lap.) I s'pose it's right, — an' we can't see it yet, — 
but — oh, it don't seem 's if I could give up my boy ! 

Mr. Newton. Who's asked ye to ? — What's the mat- 
ter with ye, anyway? Nobody's got to go to war that 
don't want to. An' nobody's goin' from this house. 
{Impatiently. ) Where's my glasses ? Where's the paper ? 
Ain't it come yet? What 

Mrs. Newton. There ye go again, father. Your 
glasses be in the usual place, — a-nappin' on yer forehead. 

Mr. Newton. Humph! How'd they git there? 

( A d justing them. ) 

Mrs. Newton. An' yer paper's there beside ye. 
{Settling hack.) Now you read me the news, an' we'll 
fergit all about the war an' have a real nice time. 

Mr. Newton. Humph! If you'll fergit it we'll fer- 
git it. I never know any one so set on talkin' 'bout it 
as you be. Anybody'd think ye had to go yerself. 

(Mrs. Newton sighs, as Mr. Newton opens the paper.) 

Mrs. Newton. I wish I could — instead of these fine 
young boys. 

Mr. Newton. There ye go ! 

Mrs. Newton. I won't, father. Read ! Read ! 

{Begins knitting vigorously.) 

Mr. Newton {looks across at her over the top of his 
paper). What ye doin' there? 

Mrs. Newton {zvith guilty start, hiding service flag, 
and taking up sweater). Nuthin' — jest knittin'. 

Mr. Newton. What is that thing? 

Mrs. Newton. Jest a — sweater. 

Mr. Newton {testily). Who be ye makin' it fer? 



THE PRIDE OF THE FAMILY II 

Mrs. Newton (hesitating). Fer They're askin' 

us women to make these warm things fer the soldiers. 

Mr. Newton. Ye'd much better be knittin' fer yer 
own family. 

Mrs. Newton (looking out of window, sadly). Who 
knows — but mebbe I be. 

Mr. Newton (sharply). What's that? 

Mrs. Newton. Nuthin' ! Nuthin', father. I — I guess 
all of us women-folks feel like 's if we wuz mothers of 
every boy that goes out. 

Mr. Newton (shaking out his paper). Humph! 
Centipedes again. Silly, senseless centipedes ! (Shrugs 
his shoulders, and buries himself in his paper. There is 
silence for a moment, Mrs. Newton looking as if she 
wanted to say something, fingering the letter in her 
pocket, and yet not daring.) There ain't no news in the 
paper. All about this blasted war business. 

Mrs. Newton (timidly; after a moment's hesitation). 
All the young men seem to want to go. 

Mr. Newton (without looking up from his paper). 
Go where ? 

Mrs. Newton. Into the — army. 

Mr. Newton. Young fools ! 

Mrs. Newton. They're drillin' on the common every 
afternoon. 

Mr. Newton. They'd better be about their work. 

Mrs. Newton (hesitating, and tentatively), I — I 
s'pose it's only natural they'd want to do their duty ? 

Mr. Newton (fiercely). Duty! Duty! What about 
their duty at home, — to their parents? 

Mrs. Newton (gently). Sometimes we have to think 
beyond ourselves, father. Our boys belong to their 
country first of all — (with deep sigh), I s'pose. 

Mr. Newton (in disgust). You talk jest like the 
newspapers! Anybody'd think you wanted to send our 
own sons over there to be cut up into dog meat for them 
dirty Germans. 

Mrs. Newton. Don't, father! Don't! 

Mr. Newton. Talk sense, then. (Returns to his 
paper.) Can't find any news in here. It's nuthin' but 
war, war, war. 



12 THE PRIDE OF THE FAMILY 

Mrs. Newton (after a pause; timidly). If — if the 
boys should want to go, father, I — I s'pose we wouldn't 
have any right to hold 'em back? 

Mr. Newton (growing more and more impatient). 
Right ! We have every right ! What would become of 
us — me a helpless cripple — and you, a woman ! 

Mrs. Newton. The dear Lord would take care of 
us — ^somehow. 

Mr. Newton. The dear Lord seems to have 'bout all 
He kin do waitin' on that damned old Kaiser ! 

Mrs. Newton (horrified), Henry! 

, Mr. Newton. You probably think He'd drop down 
from heaven and do our plantin' and hoein' an' harvestin'. 

Mrs. Newton. Henry, that's not a nice way to talk 
of our dear Lord. 

Mr. Newton. It's jest as sensible as the way you 
take on about this war. What do you know 'bout it? 
What do these young jackasses that are a-drillin' on the 
common know 'bout it? It's the deviltry of the thing 

that's got into their blood. What does (With 

quick suspicion.) See here, where's John? 

Mrs. Newton (confused, and a little terrified). Why, 
I— I 

Mr. Newton (sitting up straight in his chair; with 
quick comprehension). That's where he is! A-drillin'! 
(Mrs. Newton starts, and quickly hends over her work.) 
Ain't he? (She doesn't reply.) Ain't he, I say? 

Mrs. Newton (hesitating, and frightened). Why, 
I — mebbe he is — mebbe he ain't. (Breathlessly.) I — 
I don't know, father. 

Mr. Newton (^^^rn/y). Ye do know, Marthy, — an' 
ye're tryin' to hide it from me. That's what all this talk 
about war is for ! That's what all this knittin' is for ! 

(Working himself into a fury. , Mrs. Newton rises 
in anxiety and goes to him, accidentally dropping 
service flag on floor.) 

Mrs. Newton. Don't, father. Don't git so worked 
up. Mebbe he won't have to go. I wuz only thinkin' 
we ought to be prepared — in case 



THE PRIDE OF THE FAMILY 1 3 

Mr. Newton (catching sight of flag. At same time 
noise is heard off stage, Mrs. Newton turns her head 
to listen). What's that? 

Mrs. Newton (going quickly to window, and peering 
off R.). That must be John now — (excitedly) or is 
it ? It's John. (Turning appealingly to Mr. New- 
ton.) Don't scold him, father. 

Mr. Newton (-sternly). What's that thing on the 
floor, Marthy? 

Mrs. Newton (catching sight of flag, with suppressed 
cry, snatches it up and guiltily rolls it in her apron). 
Oh! — Why! — It's nuthin'. (Quickly turns toward 
stove.) I — I'm 'fraid John's dinner's all dried up. 

Mr. Newton (more sternly) . Marthy, give that here. 

Mrs. Newton. It's — it's nuthin', father. 

Mr. Newton. Then why are ye hidin' it ? 

Mrs. Newton (pleadingly). No, — it ain't nuthin' 
but a piece o' cloth. 

Mr. Newton. Lemme see. Give it here. 

Mrs. Newton (giving it to him reluctantly). It's 
only jest a little work I wuz doin' 

Mr. Newton (holding it up, and examining it for a 
moment). What's that star fer? — Red, white and blue. 

(Looking questioningly at her,) 

Mrs. Newton. Oh, father, give it ter me. I didn't 
want ye to see it. I — thought mebbe it'd be kind of a 
comfort — in case 

Mr. Newton (with sudden comprehension). It's one 
o' them flags o' service the papers hev been writin' about. 
Ye' re making it fer 

(John, a splendid type of young man dressed in the 
rough clothes of the rural districts, bursts into room 
through door at u. r., holding forzvard a gun.) 

John (eagerly, in hushed voice). Mother, we drilled 
with 

Mrs. Newton (trying to stand in front of him, to hide 
gun from father). Hush, John! 



14 THE PRIDE OF THE FAMILY 

(John, seeing his father, puts gun behind him.) 

Mr. Newton {angrily), Heh! So youVe got some- 
thin' to hide behind yer petticoats, too! {Looking ac- 
cusingly from mother to son.) Both on ye — contrivin' 
against me ! 

Mrs. Newton {pleadingly). No, father, no. We 

John {taking in the situation, comes forward, and 
plants the gun firmly and providly in front of him, facing 
his father fearlessly). I have nothing to hide, father. 

Mr. Newton. What's the meanin' o' that gun, then? 

John {quietly, hut firmly). Father, I want to join 
the army. 

Mr. Newton {looking at Mrs. Newton, accusingly), 
I knew it! 

John {to Mrs. ' Newton ) . You've told him, mother. 

Mrs. Newton. No, dear, — not exactly, — but he sus- 
pects. 

Mr. Newton {with solemn sternness), Marthy, I 
never thought the day would come when I'd have to 
suspect you. 

Mrs. Newton. Oh, Henry, I didn't mean to ! I wuz 
never so put to it before. 

Mr. Newton. After all these years. 

John. Don't blame mother, father. I asked her not 
to say an)^thing to you until it was all settled — that I was 
really needed — and that 

Mr. Newton {vehemently). Needed! Needed! Don't 
ye think ye are needed here ! What about me ? What 
about your mother? Hev ye thought o' that? 

John {quietly). Yes, father, first of all. An' I won't 
leave you until there's some one to take my place. 

Mr. Newton {with increasing anger). Who's to take 
yer place? An' who's got the money to pay him? 

John. I'm hoping Henry is going to take care of you 
and mother. 

Mr. Newton. Henry! Hen 

John. Mother wrote him. 

Mrs. Newton {drawing letter from her pocket). An' 
he's comin', dear. 

John {taking letter, eagerly). You got an answer? 



THE PRIDE OF THE FAMILY I5 

Mrs. Newton. This afternoon. 

(John opens and eagerly reads letter.) 

Mr. Newton (/tf no w^/y). You wrote to Henry to 
leave college ! — to give up his education ! 

Mrs. Newton. Father, dear, John 

John. Let me explain, mother. 

Mr. Newton {banging his fist on the arm of his 
chair). How far has this thing gone? 

John {quietly). Father, Fve been following this war 
pretty closely in the papers ever since it started. Th: 
injustice, the brutality, the barbarianism of it has mad. 
my blood boil, — and I longed to get into it, — but I feU 
my place was here with you and mother — and helping to 
keep Henry in college. 

Mr. Newton. An' now ye want to leave us — an' 
take him out of college ! 

John. Now that our country is in it, too, it seems to 
me my duty — and the duty of every able-bodied man to 
come forward and stand behind our flag. I talked it 
over with mother 

Mr. Newton. Sneakin' 'round the corner! Why 
didn't ye come out into the open like a man ? 

John. Because I didn't want to trouble you until it 
was all settled. (Constdting letter.) Now Henry's 
coming home. Says he may be here almost as soon as 
the letter. So it's all right to talk about it. You want 
me to go, don't you, father ? 

Mrs. Newton. Of course he does, dear. 

Mr. Newton (struggling to rise, and sinking hack). 
Oh, why am I so helpless that I got to set here an' let 
you two ride over me an' do what ye want! (Desper- 
ately.) Marthy, you send a letter to Henry right away, 
an' tell him not to come home. I won't have it ! 

Mrs. Newton (looking helplessly from John to Mr. 
Newton). But — father — I — I can't. 

Mr. Newton. You do as I tell ye ! 

John (quietly). He's coming home to-day, father. 

Mr. Newton. To-day! 

John (consulting letter). Says he may be here almost 
as soon as this letter 



l6 THE PRIDE OF THE FAMILY 

Mr. Newton (pounding arms of chair with fists). 
Oh, was a man ever so tried ? You two doin' this unbe- 
knownst to me! To make him give up his education 
that we've paid dear for ! 

John (to Mrs. Newton). We'll have to tell him, 
mother. (To Mr. Newton, soothingly.) He wanted 
' to surprise you, father. He says (reading) : " My 
college days are over. I have my degree, and — but never 
mind. You'll know the rest when you see me. Don't 
tell Dad. I have a big surprise for him — that'll make 
him proud of his Henry, Junior." (To Mr. Newton.) 
That's his degree. 

Mrs. Newton. Too bad we had to tell you, father. 
Don't let on that you know. 

John. Then it's settled — I can go? 

Mr. Newton. It's settled you stay right here, — and 
it's settled you put down that gun — (John draws it to 
him a little closer) and that you go back to your work, 
and git all them blasted notions about joinin' the army 
out o' your head. 

John (quietly, but firmly). But, father, it's my duty 
to go. 

Mr. Newton (fiercely). Who says it's your duty? 

John. The papers, the recruiting officer down in the 
town; — our President says so, — and my own heart tells 
me so. 

Mr. Newton (scornfully). Yes, your own belly says 
so ! Let them German pig-stickers fill it full of bullets, 
an' I guess you'd sing another tune ! 

Mrs. Newton. Oh, father, don't talk like that ! 

Mr. Newton. It's the only way to talk to git any 
common sense into you — an' him! (Turning upon 
John.) This war ain't of our makin', — an' there's no 
reason why it should be of our unmakin'. 

John. There's every reason, father! What about 
the butchering of little children, and helpless women — 
and old men? 

Mr. Newton. They ain't Americans. 

John. Does that make any difference in the justice — 
or injustice of It? If a poor immigrant woman were 
walking along the road here, doing no harm to anybody, 



THE PRIDE OF THE FAMILY 1 7 

and a brute of a man came along and insulted and 
threatened to kill her, would you ask if he were an 
American or not before you struck him down? 

Mr. Newton {doggedly). 'T wouldn't happen here. 

John. Does it make any difference where it happens? 
If such things are happening anywhere on this earth, 
isn't it the duty of strong men and strong countries to 
rush in and help — to protect the weak ? 

Mr. Newton. It ain't our affair. 

John. It is our affair, too, father. What would you 
think of a man who would stand by and see a beast come 
in here and murder mother? 

Mrs. Newton {horrified). Oh, John! 

Mr. Newton. That's a different matter. 

John. Because it strikes home, — yes. Well, this 
should strike home, — to any man who's got a heart, or 
any sense of honor and duty. They're killing our own 
people, too, — blowing up our ships, blowing up our 
factories, blowing up our bridges — everything they can. 
They're calling us cowards and money-grabbers. Should 
we sit by and do nothing; — turn the other cheek, and 
let 'em hit again ? Not much ! It's time to stand up 
and show the stuff we Americans are made of ! I tell 
you, father, I want to show 'em we're throat-grabbers 
of such beasts as they are. I want to be among the 
first to run a bayonet into 'em ! 

Mrs. Newton {turning away in anguish; under her 
breath). Oh, my boy, — my little boy! 

John. I want to drive 'em into a mud hole filled 
with their own stinking blood, and see 'em choke in it, 
and drown like rats ! 

Mrs. Newton. Don't, John, don't ! I can't stand it ! 
{Wringing her hands.) I can't! {To Mr. Newton.) 
Oh, it don't seem 's if I could let him go ! — When I think 

of the terrible things 

' Mr. Newton. Waal, ye ain't got to, — fer he ain't 
a-goin'. (John draws up a little defiantly.) Put down 
that gun ! 

John {with determination), I must go, father, — just 
as soon as Henry comes home. 

Mr. Newton {vehemently). That's just why you 



1 8 THE PRIDE OF THE FAMILY 

ain't a-goin' ! Do you think Fm goin to bring him back 
here to live on a farm — with a college education? 

John (quietly). I don't believe that'll hurt the farm. 

Mr. Newton. He's got brains an' ambitions. He's 
goin' to make a place fer himself out in the world, and 
(Hirning fiercely on John) you ain't a-goin' to tie him 
down here — an' spoil his chances ! 

John. What about my chances? He's had his. 
(With determmation.) It's my turn now. I've given 
up to him all my life — because you made me. If there 
ever was a hard job to do I had to do it; if there ever 
v/as anything to be given up I had to do it. I wanted 
to go to college far more than he did, but I didn't talk 
about it because I didn't see how you could send me; 
but when Henry put up a kick and said he wanted to go 
you were proud of him, and said John could carry on 
the farm without him, and help to keep him there. Well, 
I have^ worked to keep him there for four years, and 
you can't say I've complained or shirked. I'm glad he's 
had that chance, and I think I've earned mine now. I 
want to join the army, father, I want to do my share in 
this war. I want to do it more than anything else in 
this world. This is my chance, — and my right — and my 
duty, — and it's your duty to send me. I must go ! 

Mr. Newton (with dogged determination). No son 
o' mine goes to this war — with my consent ! 

John. Would you rather see me drafted — forced 
to go? 

Mr. Newton. You won't hev to be drafted. There 
won't be no such thing. 

John. The recruiting officer says it will come to 
that, — if we don't enlist. 

Mr. Newton. He's paid ter fill yer heads with that 
nonsense. Let him gather up the tramps and vagrants — 
an' send 'em over there. 

John. That isn't the sort of man we want to repre- 
sent our country. And it's a pretty sneaking patriot 
who waits for the draft anyway. 

Mr. Newton. Waal, ye won't hev to be drafted. 
You've got dependents. 



THE PRIDE OF THE FAMILY IQ 

John. Only one son can make that excuse. Would 
you rather it would be Henry? 

Mr. Newton (startled). No, — no, they shan't take 
Henry. 

John. Then isn't it better to let me go in an honorable 
way? Fm the older son, and 

Mrs. Newton (pleadingly). Yes, father! 

Mr. Newton (suspiciously). No, — I won't be talked 
into it. 

Mrs. Newton. John thinks it's his duty. We 
shouldn't stand in his way. 

Mr. Newton. It's his duty to stay right here, an' , 
(sternly, to John) here you stay! 

John. No, father. I've made up my mind. 

Mr. Newton. You'd go agin me ? 

John. I hope to persuade you. 

Mrs. Newton. We mustn't think of ourselves, father. 
We must try to look at it as John sees it. There's some- 
times a higher duty than that of son to parents. 
There's 

Mr. Newton. You keep quiet ! You've done enough 
mischief — fillin' his head with fool ideas, — makin' this 
thing — (shaking service flag at her) writin' to Henry 
behind my back — tryin' to make that poor boy give up 
everythin' ! I -tell ye I won't hev it ! I won't hev it ! 

(He pauses in anger. Off stage is heard the whis- 
tling of '' Over There.'' All three pause, turn, and 
listen. Almost instantly appears outside of windozv, 
at L., Henry, his head uncovered, swinging ahiig 
with a debonair, careless swagger. He pauses for a 
moment, looks in, and waves his hand gaily.) 

Mrs. Newton. It's Henry! (Goes quickly to door.) 
Mr. Newton (peering out, eagerly). Henry? 

(John takes an eager step forward.) 

Mrs. Newton (opening door; holding on' '• - \ 

Henry, my boy ! 

Henry (submitting gaily to embrace). iliili). 
mother. How are you? (Szvaggcrs in. He is a hand- 



20 THE PRIDE OF THE FAMILY 

some, merry, care-free lad of about twenty-two years, 
dressed in a long tan coat buttoned to the throat. All 
that is visible of his dress is a pair of tan shoes with 
military leggings. Under his arm is tucked a military 
cap, and he carries a swagger stick. From his mother, 
he turns to his father, swaggers over, and shakes hands, 
Mr. Newton looking up at him in childlike joy.) How's 
the Grand Old Man? 

Mr. Newton {clinging to his hand). No better, 
Henry, — no better. 

Henry {gaily). Nonsense, Dad, — we'll have you do- 
ing the fox trot with mother yet. {Turns to John, with 
a merry laugh.) Hello, Jack. How goes it? 

John {taking his hand, with a strong, sincere hand- 
shake). It was mighty good of you to come so soon, 
Henry. You don't 

Henry {with a little laugh of embarrassment). Not 
a bit of it. 

John. You don't know how I appreciate it. 

Henry {looking at gun). Why has Johnnie got his 
gun? Not shooting out of season, eh? 

John. I'm prepared, you see. Been drilling 

Mr. Newton {vehemently). Henry, I won't hev ye 
give up yer career. 

Henry. Who says I'm going to. Dad? 

Mr. Newton {pointing to Mrs. Newton and to 
John). They want ye to, — while John there goes and 
makes a fool o' himself with all his blasted notions about 
patriotism — and duty. His duty is right here. 

John {to Henry, apologetically). Father doesn't 
seem to realize the meaning of this war. 

Mrs. Newton. It's real good of you, Henry, to come 
an' take care of us while John's away, 

Mr. Newton. He ain't goin' away, I tell ye. I won't 
hev Henry tied down here. We've paid dear for his 
education, and now he's got to be free to make the most 
of it. 

Henry {patting Mr. Newton on the shoulder). Good 
old Dad. 

John {to Mr. Newton). It will be for only a little 
while, father. {To Henry.) I've told him it would 



THE PRIDE OF THE FAMILY 21 

be only a question of time before one of us would have 
to go, and how much better it is to go now as an honor- 
able man. 

Mr. Newton. Don't ye let him talk ye into it, Henry, 
Henry. He won't have to, Dad, for it's all settled. 

(John breathes a sigh of relief, Mrs. Newton smiles 
sympathetically and sadly,) 

Mr. Newton. Ye mean ye'U give up everything? 

Henry. Didn't I tell you I had a big surprise that 
would make you proud of your Henry, Junior? 

Mr. Newton. Yes, but 

Henry {quickly unbuttoning and removing his coat). 
Well, behold! Here it is! {He stands forth dressed in 
the khaki military uniform bearing insignia of quarter- 
master sergeant. He puts on his military cap, and takes 
up, and twirls jauntily his swagger stick; salutes, and 
looks to the others for exclamations of surprise. John 
gives a start backward, and stands as if stunned.) The 
problem is solved. 

Mrs. Newton {with dawning comprehension). Oh, 
why, — Henry ! John ? 

John {in dull, hard voice), Where'd you get that 
uniform? 

Henry. Uncle Sam, the father of our country, — and 
incidentally of the best tailor in town. How do you Hke 
it? Some fit, eh? {Turning about like a model.) 

Mr. Newton {peering through, and over his glasses). 
It ain't — a soldier's suit ! 

Henry {laughing gaily). Good guess, Dad. {Pidlhig 
down coat, and striking military attitude.) A credit to 
my figger, eh? — and to my cotmtry. (John braces him- 
self against table for support. Henry takes bill from 
pocket, and tosses it to John.) Sorry I've got to pass 
the bill over to you, Jackie boy, — but the truth of the 
matter is I'm strapped, busted, dead broke. You don't 
mind this — for patriotism — and little brother? You see 
Fve saved you from service. 

John {sinking into chair beside table; bitterly). 
Saved me ! 



22 THE PRIDE OF THE FAMILY 

(Mrs. Newton, unconsciously, moves toward him in 
sympathy. ) 

Mrs. Newton. Henry, you haven't? Oh, no! 

Mr. Newton (sharply). Ye hain't — enUsted, boy! 

Henry. Another good guess, Dad. You always 
were good at conundrums. 

John (bitterly). And this is the surprise! 

Henry. Right you are. 

Mrs. Newton. But, Henry, I wrote ye John wanted 
to go! 

Henry. Too late. It's the early bird that gets the 
worm. (Swelling up with pride,) Behold Cock Robin! 
Didn't I tell you, Dad, you'd be proud of your baby boy? 

Mr. Newton. But 

Mrs. Newton. We — we thought you meant you'd 
got your diploma 

Henry. Degree, mother. Diplonm is very plebeian. 
(With sweeping movement of his hand over his uni- 
form, ) This is how I got it. Killed two birds with one 
stone — to change the metaphor. 

Mr. Newton. I can't let ye go, Henry ! 

Henry. Got to go. Dad. Every reason for it. Can't 
get my degree unless I go. 

Mr. Newton. You mean they'd force ye to go — at 
college ! 

Henry. Practically that. You see college has been 
pretty much of a goulash this year — on account of the 
war. We knew it was coming; — nobody could work; — 
air full of gunpowder. We got the idea that degrees 
were going to be passed 'round on a silver platter, with 
a dish of ice-cream thrown in, when June came. No- 
body's been doing any work. Last month we got the 
gas bomb that only those going into military service 
would get their little sheepskins; — that's Greek for de- 
grees, you know — free, gratis, for nothing ; and the other 
chaps would have to heave to, and pass the exams. Well, 
what was a fellow to do? Choice of two things: flunk, 
or cuddle up to Uncle Sam. Tight place, eh ? But not 
for little Henry! He had a good pal whose dad has 
some pull at the inside ropes; and he landed us each a 



THE PRIDE OF THE FAMILY 



23 



neat little berth. Mine you see — quartermaster ser- 
geant — just for the asking! Some luck, eh, Dad? 
{Strutting about, and singing softly.) " So pack up 
your troubles in your old kit bag,'' etc. 

Mr. Newton. An' let your education be wasted ! No, 
Henry, ye can't go. I've planned big things fer ye. 

Henry. This is the way to get 'em, Dad. You don't 
seem to realize what a chance this is. Why, it's one in a 
thousand ! The Quartermaster Department is the great- 
est training school in the world — for business. Think of 
the experience — and the men I'll work with ! and the 
chances of promotion ! First sergeant now — $81 per 
month. Next, second lieutenant, $1,700 a year. That 
I've been promised as soon as we get over there. But 
that's a: secret. Then comes first lieutenant, $2,000; 
captain, $2,400, and so on up the line. Why, Dad, in a 
year or so I may be sporting a brigadier general's outfit, 
and drawing $6,000 plunks per annum ! 

Mr. Nj^wton {credulous, and much impressed). Is 
that so? 

Henry. What more could you wish for your lad? 

Mr. Newton. But the danger? 

Henry {laughing). My only danger will be from 
overeating. Commissary Department : all the goodies, 
and none of the privations. Uniform, stripes, bars, au- 
thority, U. S. cash, etc. 

John. So that's all the war means to you? 

Henry. Oh, no ! There are other compensations. 
Fve been wanting to see a bit of the world. It rounds 
off a fellow's education, you know. Now a free trip to 
Europe, and — {slyly, to John, sotto-voce) Jackie boy, 
they tell me the French girls are pretty lassies. {Tak- 
ing off his cap, and walking across stage, as if talking to 
some one by his side, with ingratiating smile. ) 

** Bon jour, my pretty maid, 
Ou allez-vous so vite? 
Come, prenez une promenade with me, 
Et je vous aime tout suite." 

(Laughs merrily. John rises in disgust and anger, and 



24 THE PRIDE OF THE FAMILY 

goes to window at l.) Oh, you old Puritan, Jack! 
How's that, mother? A poet and a Frenchman? 

Mrs. Newton {puzzled), I don't know a word you 
said, Henry. 

Henry {laughing). That comes of a college educa- 
tion. I said I might bring you home a *' Parlez-vous "• 
for a daughter-in-law. 

Mrs. Newton. When you marry, Henry, I hope it 
won't be any such heathen. 

Henry {laughs, then turns seriously to Mr." Newton). 
No, but really, Dad, don't you see there's everything to 
be gained, and nothing to be lost? 

Mr. Newton {reluctantly), Wa-al, it does look a 
little different, but 

Henry {pushing his arguments). Now, here are the 
reasons for going. {Enumerating them on his fingers.) 
First: I can't get my degree unless I go. Second: By 
getting -in early I fare better. Third: Quartermaster's 
Department is the safest. Fourth : It's the best% prepara- 
tion fpr business — for my future. Fifth : Advantages of 
travel : All expenses paid. Sixth : I get more money out 
of it than anything else I could go into. Seventh: Think 
of the glory I add to the family name : Sergeant Newton ; 
Lieutenant Newton; {making ascending movement of 
arm) Captain Newton; {standing on tiptoes, in whisper) 
Major Newton. Pretty long list, eh? Now, what is 
there against? 

{Folds his arms, and looks at others,) 

Mr. Newton. Ye might a-wait«d. 

Henry. And be drafted! 

Mr. Newton. It'll never come to that? 

Henry. Ah, yes, it will. I have inside dope on that 
subject. The draft is going through this summer. Then 
where would I be ? No, Dad, *' seize your opportunities " 
is a pretty good motto. I'm out for big game; and, at 
the present time, the war's the big game. It's the wise 
lad who gets in early while the plums are being passed ! 
{Pulling down his coat, looking himself over compla- 
cently, twirling his swagger stick.) Oh, what a gaod boy 
am 1 1 {Sings snatch of *' Over There,**) 



THE PRIDE OF THE FAMILY 25 

Mrs. Newton. But, Henry, I wrote ye John wanted 
to go. He felt it his duty. 

John. Oh, mother, what's the use? 

Henry (magnanimously). Well, you see Tve saved 
him. 

John (his voice choking with pent-up emotion). 
Saved me! Saved me from the greatest privilege a 
man could have ! 

Henry {surprised). Well, listen to that! {Quiz- 
zically.) Why, Jack, old man, you don't mean to say 
you really wanted to go ? 

Mrs. Newton. He'd set his heart on it. 

Henry. Well, upon my 

John. You might at least have written to find out. 

Henry. Why — I never thought of it. 

John {bitterly). No, never thought of it! Never 
thought of anybody but yourself ! 

Henry. Oh, I say, don't be peevish! {To Mr. 
Newton.) I never thought of old Jack as ever being 
anything but a farmer. 

John. Even a farmer can sometimes have hopes — 
and plans! 

Henry. But you're the bread winner. Jack. 

John. Who has made me the bread winner? And 
who has been your bread winner for the last four years ? 
Doesn't that arouse any feeling of consideration — or 
responsibility? Isn't this your chance to do something 
in return? 

Henry. I'm making the most of my opportunities. 
What more 

John. For your own gains. What does enlisting 
mean to you? The pleasure money and glory you get 
out of it! No thought of duty — or willingness to sacri- 
fice! 

Henry. I'm offering my time — and my ability. 

John. For greater value received! That's not being 
a soldier or a patriot. That's being a grafter — and you 
know it ! 

Henry. Oh, come, John, high heroics are all ven' 
well for the public, but in the bosom of the family let's 
face the facts. I go ns .-m olTicor— into n safe job — 



26 THE PRIDE OF THE FAMILY 

with pull, and every chance of promotion. If you go it 
will be as a common soldier into the trenches — and you'd 
probably have your head pinked off at the first whack. 
Then what earthly good would you be? 

John. I would at least have done my duty as a man. 
I'd die with the self-respect of having given my life with 
no selfish thoughts of reward. 

Henry. And you'd leave me here to hide my light 
under a bushel of potatoes for the rest of my life. Merci 
beaucoup ! A man owes it to himself, to his family and 
to his country to make the most of himself. That's my 
stand. 

Mr. Newton. And it's the right one! You go, lad, 
and we'll be proud of you. 

(Mrs. Newton sighs, and goes to John.) 

Henry (going to his father, and shaking hands), I'm 
mighty glad you understand, Dad. We must do what 
we're best fitted for. Now being a farmer is being a 
soldier. Jack can do his bit right here. 

Mr. Newton. That's right. 

Henry. While I 

(Falls into low-toned conversation with Mr. Newton.) 

Mrs. Newton (to John). Don't take it so hard, 
dear. 

John (turning away his head to hide his emotion). 
It's all right, mother. 

Mrs. Newton. Perhaps it's all for the best. 

John. Perhaps so. 

Mrs. Newton. Ye know, dear, the greatest heroes 
are often those who stay at home, and do the duty 
nearest their own door. 

John (starting off l.). Yes, I know. (His hand on 
the door latch, turns and tries to smile at her.) It's all 
right, mother. Don't you worry. [Exit. 

Mrs. Newton (looking after him, affectionately). 
It's a sight o' comfort to me to hev ye, John. (Turns; 
then catching sight of dinner in oven.) John, ye ain't 
had ver dinner. 



THE PRIDE OF THE FAMILY 27 

Henry {wheeling around). Dinner! Who said din- 
ner? Tm half starved. 

Mr. Newton. Here, mother, git the boy some dinner. 

Mrs. Newton (closing door with a sigh). Yes, dear. 

Henry. Til begin my commissary duties now. 
(Commanding tone.) 'Tention! Bring on the mess! 

Mrs. Newton (taking things out of oven). Yes, 
dear, — but it's no mess. (Bringing things to table,) It 
was a real nice dinner four hours ago. (Henry laughs.) 

Mr. Newton (shaking out service flag). An', Mar- 
thy, we'll hang the flag for Henry. 

(Mrs. Newton raises a. hand of remonstrance, then 
quickly drops it.) 

Mrs. Newton. Yes, dear. 

Mr. Newton. It'll be a comfort — while he's gone. 
(Passing it to Henry.) Here, boy, hang it here at the 
window — where I can alius see it. (Henry fastens the 
flag, singing, at the same time, a snatch of ''Keep the 
Home Fires Burning.'') We're goin' to be proud of 
him, Marthy. 

Mrs. Newton. Yes, dear. 

(Wipes her eyes quickly, and turns toward the stove.) 



CURTAIN 



STEP LIVELY 

A Comedy in Two Acts 
By Gladys Ruth Brid^ham 
Four males, ten females. Scenery, one interior; costumes, modern. 
Plays two hours. Billings, banker and mill owner, ruined by the war, 
feigns illness and keeps to his room to avoid explanations. His sister 
turns up with three daughters, all bringing new complications, and things 
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detective, opportunely turns up, however, and does some Sherlock Holmes 
work on a very interesting and complicated situation, and brings matters 
to a highly satisfactory conclusion. Very rapid and exciting ; can be 
recommended. 

Price ^ 2^ cents 

CHARACTERS 

Joseph Billings, mill owner and Gwendolyn Smith, her niece. 

President of Benham Trust Co. Martha Holton, Billings^ niece. 
Joseph Billings, Jr., his son. Lucille Loveland, of the ** Win 

Theodore Cunningham, his secre- some Winnie Co.^* 

tary. CARRY ArRY. 

Horatius Thimple. Nora, the maid. 

Mary Smythe, Billings' sister. Jerusha Billings, 
Beverly Smythe "j , 

Juliet Smythe \ , \. . 

Rose-Marie Smythe J ^^^^^^^'^s. 



JOHNNY'S NEW SUIT 

A Comedy in Two Acts 
By Mary G. Balch 
Two males, five females. Scenery, interiors ; costumes, modern. 
Plays fifty minutes. Mrs. Larkin tries to make Johnny a new suit to 
wear at the prize speaking competition, but does not get it further along 
than basting when the hour arrives. She takes a chance on the basting 
thread holding, but in the excitement of the occasion the threads break 
and Johnny's eftbrts are somewhat complicated. He wins out, however. 
Howlingly funny and strongly recommended. 

Price, 2^ cents 



DINNER AT SEVEN SHARP 

A Comedy in One Act 
By Amabel and Tudor Jenks 
Five males, three females. Scene, an interior; costumes, modern. 
Plays forty minutes. Beverly, a ])atent lawyer, C)is(o(linn o^" certain 
capers important to a rival of the electric comjiany that he roprcsents, 
t)affles, after an exciting experience, an emissary of his opponents, who is 
in his own emi)loy disguised as an English butler. Very interesting and 
weH recommended. 

Price. 3^ Clint t 



LITTLE ACTS FOR LITTLE ACTORS 

A Collection of PlaySj Drillsj Tableaux and other 

Entertainments for Children 

By Edyth M, Wormwood and Elizabeth F» Gup till 

This volume, by a well-known author in this field, offers an unusual 

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Pricey ^j cents 



CONTENTS 



Father Time's Jubilee. 40 children. 
Alphabetical Antics. 26 children. 
Pussy "Willows. 8 small girls. 
Bo Peep and Boy Blue. 2, 3, or 4 pairs 

of small children. 
Miss Muffett and jack Horner. 2 to 

4 pairs of small children. 
Little Cooks. Any number of the 

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At the Seaside. Any number of couples 

of the smallest children. 



Good Night Drill. Several very small 

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Toadstools, For 4 very small children. 
Blue Bells. 12 small girls. 
Tray Drill. Any number of girls. 
Silver and Gold. Any even number of 

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Bell Drill. 8 children, either sex or both. 
Sunbeams. Any number of little girls. 
Wreath Drill. 12 girls. 
Tableaux. 



PLAYS WITH A PUNCH 

A Collection of One-Act Plays and Sketches, Serious 
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A volume of short plays by various authors intended for use in vaude- 
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Price, 2^ cents 

CONTENTS 



A Crooked Man and His Crooked 

Wife. 2 males, i female. 
His Chance. 4 males. 
The Alarm, 2 males. 
A Bride From Home. 2 males, 2 females. 
Brother Dave, i male, c females. 
Faro Nell. 6 males, i female. 



A Game of Comedy. 2 males, i female. 
A Scratch Race. 3 males, 2 females. 
The Substance of Ambition. 3 males, 

X female. 
Her Picture. 2 males, 2 females. 
Red or White. 2 males, 2 females. 



PLAYS IN PINAFORES 

A Very Miscellaneous Collection of Plays for Young 

People of All Ages 

CONTENTS 



Mousme of the Japanese Toy-Shop. 
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An Easter Miracle. 10 females. 

The Prince of Poppyland. 6 males, 10 
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The Dolls' Playhouse, t male, 3 fe- 
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School Opera. 5 males, 5 females. 

The Honeymoon. 3 males, 5 females. 

Left. I male, i female. 

jOhn Anderson, My Jo. i male, x fe- 
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Migg's Revenge, i male, i female. 

The Irish Washerwoman, i male 1 
female. 

The Cobbler's Bargain, i male, i fe- 
male. 

Cold Water. 2 males, i female. 

Dialogue for Five Little Girls. 

The Power of Song, 6 males, 5 females. 

Learning Lessons. 2 males, 4 females 
and chorus. 



Price f 2^ cents 



ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 

A Karce in Three Acts 
By Grace Ar/ington Owen 
Five males, eleven females. Costumes, modern; scenery of little \m 
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Price t 2 J cents 

CHARACTERS 

Martin Heniiv, the laziest man in the county* 

Arthur Watson. 

Jack, 1 

Ted, \ fricmh cf Arthur s, 

Dick, ) 

Miss Abigail Persons, a ivoman of icteas. 

Mrs. WA.TSON, a gentle person. 

LuciLE Persons. 

AIarie, j 

/ane, I friejids of Lucile. 

Mabel, j 

Mary, Martin Henry s aunt; cook at the Persons* 

First Girl. 

Second Girl. 

First Gypsy. 

Second Gypsy. 

THE iEMPLETON TEAPOT 

A Farce in One Act 
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Four males, four females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, ^n interior. 

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A Comeily in Two Acts 
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Two New Prompt Books 

Edited by 
GRANVILLE BARKER 



THE WINTER'S TALE 

By WiiliafH Shakespeare 

An acting edition ^th a. producer' i preface by Granville Barker 

TVith Costume Designs by Albert Rothenstein 
As produced by Lillah McCarthy at the Savoy Theatre, London 

An admirable stage version of this play suitable for school performance, 
if desired, under simplified conditions as to scenery. Mr. Rothensrtein's 
illustrations contain many helpful suggestions as to costuming. 

Price, 2^ cents 

TWELFTH NIGHT 

By William Shakespeare 

An acting edition loith a producer"* s preface by Granville Barker 
With Illustrations and Costume Designs by Norman Wilkinson 
As produced at the Savoy Theatre , London j by Lillah McCarthy 

Uniform in appearance and style with the above and similarly helpful 
for performance by amateurs as well as by professional talent. 

Price, 2^ cents 

Mr. Barker's " producer's prefaces *' are a trial step in the direction o( 
providing less experienced actors and managers of the great plays with 
the results of an expert consideration of them from an acting standpoint. 
Like Miss Fogerty's admirable work in connection with the five plays 
listed elsewhere, they are designed not merely to answer the questions 
that must arise but to put the inexperienced producer into such a relation 
with the text that his own intelligence will be able to cope with his prob- 
lem without help or suggestion. One learns how a man like Mr. Barker 
approaches a play with the idea of staging it, and so how another may dc 
the same thing. In this they will be seen to be truly and genuinely 
educational as well as merely helpful. 



Sent postpaid by mail on receipt of price 

Walter H. Baker & Co., 5 Hamilton Place 

BOSTON. MASS. 



Jl. m. Pinero's Plays 

Price* 50 £;ettte Cacb 



MTn /HI A Itf M17f ^^7 ^° ^^^^ Actg. Six m»leg, five females. 
fUlU-vtlAnrlEilj Costumes, modern; scenery, three int^iors. 
Plays two and a half honrs. 

THE NOTORIOUS MRS. EBBSMITH 5r* ^i^**^ 

males, five females. Costumes, modern; scenery, all interiors. 
Plays a fnll evening. 

TUr DDA17IfPAT17 Play in Four Acts. Seven males, five 
1 nL r tvUr ijlVl a l £■ females. Scenery, three interiors, rather 
elaborate ; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening, 

•POl? C^/^UAAf n/ITCTDrCC Farce in Three Acts. Nine males, 
IHEi dLnUULlYUiJ 1 IvEiiJiJ seven females. Costumes, mod- 
em; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. 

THE SECOND MRS. TANQUERAY g|L'°l°S;^Sl'e 

females. Costumes, modem; scenery, three interiors. Plays a 
full evening. 

Slinnrr f AVri^nrD Comedyln Three Acts. Seven males, 
WLtil LAYLPII-FlllV four females. Scene, a single interior, 
costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 

THE THUNDERBOLT nlne^f emales. ^ Scenery, three interi- 
ors; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 

mTTMFC Comedy in Four Acts. Six males, seven females. 
1 liYICiij Scene, a single interior ; costumes, modern. Plays 
a full evening. 

•PUP Hrr a VVD CrV comedy in Three Aots. Eight males, 
lllL W HAIiCtV OCA eight females. Costumes, modern; 
ioenery, two interiors. Plays a full evening. 

A WIFE WITHOUT A SMILE gf^^lii? f^u^^feo^r.: 

Costumes, modern ; scene, a single interior. Plays a full evening. 

Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 

Walttx ?^. IBafeer Sc Companp 

No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 



iiiiiiii 

015 973 671 4 



C|)e WiUma Wwctn Ctiition 
of $lap0 



AC TAIT I m IT Comedy In FIt* Aeto. Tlilrt««i& buiIm, four 
MD IVU MAS II fenuatt. OoetvniM, pioiorMqne ; MeBery, ▼»- 
litd. PU fi » fall •TttQisf . 

TAMIf T R I>rainA In FIt« Aota. Nine idaIm, flra fmuAlM. Oo«* 
VAfllUfl^U lomes, modem ; toenory, Tarled. PUye a full orenin^ 

I1IIAA1IIA9 ^^7 ^ ^'^^ Aott. Thirtoen males, three femalef. 
inUUinilA Boenery Tarled ; eottumee, Greek. Playi a full eTeaiaf. 

MADT CTfTAin* Tragedy in Fire Aete. Thirteen males, four fe- 
fllill\l JIUiUlI mAles, and supernumeraries. Costumes, of the 
period I scenery, Tarled and elaborate. Plays a full evening. 

THE MERCHANT OF YEWCE SSSSjl^^iTfl^iiSS: gSSSS; 

plotoresque ; toenery Tarled Plays a full eyenlng. 

DimPT IPIT Play In Fire Acts. Fifteen males, two females. Been- 
mvilCMKU ery elaborate ; costumes of the period. PUys a full 
•Tenlng. 

THP DIVAT C Comedy In Five Acts. Nine males, Ato femalesL 
IIIC Ml? AU Bcenery TarHed; costumes of the peHod. PUys a 
full oTening. 

SUB STOOPS TO CONQUEI ^:^\,^tf^^%J^ 

rled; cpstumee of the period. Plays a full erening. 

TWELFTH NHHIT; OR, WiA? YOB fllL S^S^^'^JJ?. 

three females. Costumes, picturesque ; scenery, Tarled. Plays a 
full evening. 



Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 

Walttt ^. iBaftev & Company 

Vo. 5 Hamilton PlacOi Boston, Iffasaachnsetta 

m. J. PARKHILL m CO., PRINTinS, BoeroN, u.e.A. 



